Harvest of Rubies Read Online Free PDF Page A

naturally and had been rolled and tucked under with gold combs so that it looked far shorter than it was. The cerulean blue gaze rested on me and she gestured for me to approach.
     
    “So you are my new scribe,” she said, when I straightened from my imperfectly executed bow.
     
    “If Your Majesty pleases.”
     
    “I will tell you what I please. Be honest. Be loyal. Be competent. Do the work I give and do it well, and we shall have no problems, you and I.”
     
    “Yes, Your Majesty.”
     
    She flicked a hand. “Well, go and do it, then.”
     
    That was the end of my introduction to the queen, though my full training in royal formalities went on for months.
     
    The only time in the palace when I did not feel like I was blundering were the hours I spent in my cramped office, which I shared with two eunuchs, scribes who reported to me. The first day or two they had little to say to me and spent entirely too much time staring at me, the way they would have an exotic animal in a cage. I suppose they had never had to work with a woman before. In time, as they saw that I knew my craft and they could rely on me to provide adequate guidance, they forgot that I was a woman, and treated me as an equal. With them, I need not worry about palace etiquette or social niceties. Our work was our code of conduct. I would squirrel myself in that closet of a chamber as long as I dared, until the queen’ssharp-tongued senior handmaiden found me and dragged me out for more lessons on royal propriety.
     
    There were other things I needed to learn. The king’s household traveled with predictable regularity to different nerve centers of the empire: Susa, Ecbatana, Passargadae, even Babylonia. I came to see more of the world’s wonders than I had ever thought possible. Suddenly I wasn’t a sheltered daughter, hardly leaving home from month to month. I had to learn to be mobile. I had to adjust to traveling and learn to become ambulatory without losing any of my efficiency.
     
    Late at night I would crawl into my chamber, often finding my roommates already asleep. The few times I saw them long enough to converse, I was so impressed by their sense of superiority and their disapproval of my simple appearance that my late hours began to offer more of a relief than an inconvenience.
     
    In spite of its aggravations, I grew accustomed to palace life. Nehemiah’s opinion of me was borne out; I had been made for this work. It came easily to me.
     
    The Persians used few slaves; the majority of their labor force came in the form of paid servants. Each servant’s wages was paid in rations—grain, wine, livestock. Among the vast array of my responsibilities was the need to keep track of every single payment made to each of the queen’s hundreds of workers. I ensured that everyone received fair and timely payment, and that none of the queen’s possessions found its way into someone else’s pockets. As a linguist, an accountant, an administrator, a librarian, and a keeper of records in triplicate, my job had many facets. And I proved adept at every aspect of them. Before one month was done, the queen offered me the position on a permanent basis.
     
    I was twenty. And I was the Queen of Persia’s Senior Scribe.
     
    Once a week, I would meet with the queen herself. Shrewd and well educated, she knew every detail of her far-flung enterprise. The night before every meeting I suffered from stomach pains and nausea. I would not sleep the whole night through no matter how well prepared I was. This anxiety only grew worse with the years, although she was not stingy with her praise.
     
    Once, after a long and complicated meeting, she gave me an exquisite fan in appreciation. “You have been doing well, scribe,” she said. “You have sharp eyes and a keen understanding.”
     
    That night, I sat up filled with fear. I worried that I would lose her good opinion. I thought that eventually she would come to realize that I was not as satisfactory